[Leading:]

Leading:
Thomas Aylmer, Junior Arcanist

Attending:
Kelly "Hamderson" Sanderson, Sergeant
Chelly "Porkbelly" Rothsmire, Untrusted Ham
Aureline "Porcine" Erocia, Commoner
Samuel "Hamuel", Random Man

There is a gross injustice embedded deep in the Covian culture. Yes, I speak of the Armsmaster tournament. A festival of brutality, open only to those who excel in hitting people with things. What about the arcanists, eh? What about the citizens?

To right this wrong, I designed the following competition, which is accessible to all: The Covian Hamsmaster Tournament. A feat of competetive eating that can be enjoyed by all. Except vegetarians. And vegans. And people who're allergic to ham. And people with no teeth. Hm. Well, it was a nice thought.

It was truly a brutish and disgusting display which cannot be adequately put into words, so I shall leave it to the attached paintings to convey the chaos which held Cove fields in its grasp that night.

After the savagery was done with, Sergeant Hamderson held the title of the First Covian Hamsmaster. Can she be unseated? No, I mean it, can she even stand?!

[Leading:]

Leading:
Leanne Melior, Regular Scout

Attending:
Raiden Morana, Captain
Sheriam Palmer, Junior Guardsman
Thomas Aylmer, Magical Sexbomb Junior Arcanist
Aralin Eroicia, Watchman
Aureline Eroicia, Commoner

The wise and sneaky Regular Scout Leanne Melior had noticed something wrong with the Covian guardsmen (and one commoner). Bunch of Sweaty Sallys, she said. Can't handle saunas. Face like a tomato when attempting to eat the mildest of chillis. Parading around shirtless in the dead of winter. What good is a Covian Guardsman (and one commoner) who is going to start sweating like a Minocian official in a Covian war room at the mildest hint of spice?

NO GOOD AT ALL.

And so she took the fine Covian Guardsmen (and one commoner) to the distant dungeon of Fire to show us what real heat looks like. The dungeon of fire is much like a regular dungeon, but much hotter. The walls are made of fire. Sometimes the floor is lava. The monsters are made of fire. The fire is made of... well, you get the idea. It's hot. It's too bleedin' 'ot.

We made our way through the winding dungeon. By my count, we killed:

* Hot cats
* Hot dogs
* Hot men
* Hot fire

And then it all went wrong. So so wrong. We approached a beast that my old mentor (in an unofficial sense) and friend would consider the most dangerous and vile of all. Two (beady) eyes. One (fiery) mane. Four (clompy) hooves. This beast most foul was indeed a horse. A hot horse. And it kicked poor old Sheriam right in the leg. A sound like that I can do without hearing again, I don't mind telling you. I think it might have also got her in the noggin, because as quick as the horse went down, she went down quicker, and she was out for the count. Despite my expert medical care, she was no longer fighting fit, and so we decided to retreat to chillier ground, and got her back to the barracks to be taken care of by our trained medical professionals.

The takings for the eve totalled 23,448 gold pieces, which were donated by all but Aralin and Raiden, who took their shares of 3908 as is their unimpeachable right.

Love and kisses,
Yours sincerely,

Thomas Aylmer

[you]

Hey! You! Yeah, you!

Think you're pretty tough, huh? Think you can eat a lot? Think you've got what it takes to become the first Covian Hamsmaster?!

Gather at Cove Fields at 8PM for the Eating Competition of a Lifetime.

Entry fee: 50 gold.
First prize: 300 gold.
Second prize: IF YOU DON'T WIN, YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE COME LAST.

Ilyana: "Has the barracks always been by the sea?"
Thomas & Pickles, simultaneously: "Yep."

Thomas Aylmer, branded Arcanist

Are you sure it wasn't the gorget?

Reporting in.

Pigeon Palace: Armitage Shanks#7063